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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321832">homemaking</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maguna_stxrk/pseuds/maguna_stxrk'>maguna_stxrk</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 05:01:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24321832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maguna_stxrk/pseuds/maguna_stxrk</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Have I told you lately how grateful I am that you’re mine?”</p>
<p>A warm and pleased smile blooms on Steve’s face and he leans back with careless abandon, trusting Tony to take his entire body weight. </p>
<p>“Is this some kind of incentive for me to cook spaghetti carbonara more often?”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Steve Rogers/Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>160</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>homemaking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s raining for the first time in a long while. Raindrops roll down the window panes, the pitter patter of them a background noise that soothes Tony down to his bones as he ambles out to the kitchen. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There is a lightness in his muscles, the kind you get after a restful sleep or a long nap. The air is pleasantly cool, the cold of the rain seeping in just a little bit from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gloomy cityscape. Tony feels it on his skin, where Steve’s cable-knit sweater has slipped off his right shoulder. The ends of the sleeves fall down to his fingertips and he brings his hands up to his nose, inhaling lungfuls of the achingly familiar scent of Steve after being deprived of it for five too-long days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony leans against the kitchen counter. Steve looks over from where he is making their lunch for the day: the promised spaghetti carbonara, Tony’s favorite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A fond, lopsided smile on his lips, Steve reaches for a mug sitting beside the coffee machine, handing it to Tony. “Feeling better, sweetheart?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony nods, accepting the steaming mug of coffee gratefully. Tony’s flight had arrived early in the morning and as much as Tony had missed his husband, he hadn’t been able to do much except drag Steve over to the bed, wrap his arms and legs around him, and eventually drift off to the feeling of Steve running long fingers through his hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had woken up a few minutes ago to an empty bed, Steve’s body warmth still lingering on the sheets. He changed into something more comfortable before stealing the sweater Steve had draped carelessly over the living room couch, wearing it over his own tank top. Following the heavenly smell of coffee wafting from the kitchen, he found his husband. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking slow, careful sips of the liquid gold, he groans in satisfaction the minute the familiar taste hits his tongue. “Missed this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Steve asks distractedly as he puts some bacon on the skillet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve coffee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Steve coffee?” Steve asks, amusement written all over his face as he washes his hands at the kitchen sink. He wipes his hands on a cloth before making his way towards Tony. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t had a cup of coffee made by you in like, a week.”</span>
</p>
<p><span>“I’m sure they have great coffee in </span><em><span>Brazil,</span></em> <span>darling,” Steve says, smiling adoringly at him as he reaches up to trace the pillow crease on Tony’s cheek.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“Doesn’t matter. They don’t have Steve coffee. Not the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Steve chuckles and the fingers tracing the lines on his face spread wider apart to cup his cheek. “Come here, you sweet talker.”  </span>
</p>
<p><span>His husband pulls him close, bringing their mouths together in a soft, open-mouthed kiss. His lips drag against Steve’s, once, twice, before pulling back. Steve leans back in to plant one final kiss on the tip of his nose before leveling him with a reproachful look. “Well, I </span><em><span>am</span></em><span> slightly hurt that my husband only missed my </span><em><span>coffee</span></em><span>.</span><span> Here I was, spending my days in loneliness, aching to see </span><em><span>him</span></em> <span>again.”</span></p>
<p><span>Tony rolls his eyes, lips curving up in a smile. Standing there in the kitchen dressed in loose-fitting clothes, a mug of Steve coffee in his hands, and Steve puttering around in the kitchen making his number one comfort food, Tony is hit by the realization of just how much he </span><em><span>needs</span></em> <span>Steve in his life, how utterly lost he would be without him. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>Overwhelmed with a sudden wave of gratitude, Tony makes his way to Steve at his post by the stove and curls an arm around his husband’s waist, planting a reverent kiss on his temple. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have I told you lately how grateful I am that you’re mine?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A warm and pleased smile blooms on Steve’s face and he leans back with careless abandon, trusting Tony to take his entire body weight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this some kind of incentive for me to cook spaghetti carbonara more often?” Steve asks, a teasing lilt to his voice, his eyes glued to the pot of boiling pasta in front of him. One of his hands is still gripping a wooden spatula. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony thinks of answering him in an equally joking manner, but eventually decides to give him the truth. “No. I just really, really love you. You take really good care of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A lifetime ago, experiencing this kind of fierce devotion for another human being—the kind that leaves his heart feeling so incredibly </span>
  <em>
    <span>full</span>
  </em>
  <span>—would have sent him running for the hills. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His throat works as he tightens his hold around Steve’s waist and whispers his next words against Steve’s shoulder. “Thank you for loving me, sweetheart.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course I love you. Who else is going to darn my holey socks?” </span>
</p>
<p><span>“I </span><em><span>knew</span></em> <span>it. You only married me for my amazing sock-darning skills,” Tony says, the feather-light kisses he plants on the side of Steve’s neck a sharp contrast to his accusatory tone.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Steve laughs, taking the hand Tony has on his stomach and pressing a kiss to the center of Tony’s calloused palm. He lets his lips linger there for a few moments before speaking, his thumb gently caressing the ridges of Tony’s knuckles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You want to go wait on the couch and get the movie ready? I’m going to finish up and plate the spaghetti.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tony reaches up with his other hand, pressing down gently on Steve’s bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. Steve’s lips part obligingly, warm and pliant as they move in tandem with his. Tony hums into the kiss, happy and content. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulling back eventually, Steve gives Tony’s butt a playful slap. “You distract me any longer, I’m going to end up ruining lunch for both you and me, mister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Tony concedes, even as he leans in to steal one more kiss before really pulling away. “Hurry up or I’ll start without you.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Come find me on Tumblr <a href="https://maguna-stxrk.tumblr.com/">@maguna-stxrk</a> and let's talk all things stevetony! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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